Edward Cullen Must Die
by sweaty boot rash
Summary: Bella has a little problem that Jacob might be able to help her solve, and that problem's name is Edward Cullen.


I couldn't deny it anymore. About three things I was absolutely positive. First, that Edward loved me and would do anything to make me happy. Second, that there used to be a part of me—and I didn't know how dominant that part might still be—that had once felt the same. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably fed up with him.

Edward Cullen had to die.

The first time I realized this, we were in his room, listening to Debussy for the millionth time that week. I was flipping through my dog-eared copy of Wuthering Heights as he rambled on in the background, something about our eternal love.

"Um, yeah," I would mutter occasionally. "Uh huh. Right."

"Bella," he finally said, glowering at me. "I just told you I would cut out my cold, crystalline heart and fashion it into a tiara for you if you would but ask it of me. Are you even listening to me?"

I sighed and carefully marked my place with a bookmark Edward had woven for me from his own shining copper hair. Closing the book and setting it aside, I was confronted with the chiseled planes of his face, mere inches away from my own.

"I love you, Bella," he said in a low voice. Those eyes of liquid amber were boring into mine. "Every inch of distance between us is like another hour without opium for a Victorian rentboy. Every breath I take that doesn't contain a particle of your fragrance is like another day on an organ transplant waitlist for—"

"Yeah, that's nice," I cut in. I placed my hand on his rock-hard pecs and pushed gently. "Listen. I have to get home soon. It's taco night, and Charlie asked me to pick up some Cheez Whiz on my way home from school, so…"

He didn't budge. I pushed harder. Edward got the hint, and whirled away to face the enormous plate glass window. A ray of sunlight broke through the improbably thick late afternoon cloud cover to fall on his face. There he went with the glitter motion thing again. "I don't know what's come over you, Bella. I've already damned your soul for our love. What more do you want of me?" An idea lit up his face and he turned back to me, grasping my hands in his. "The tiara, right? Is that it? Just give me a couple of days, I'm sure I can find a place in Port Angeles where I can rent industrial gem cutting equipment!"

I yanked my hands away. "I'm _fine, _Edward! Sheesh, you're so clingy! I just need a little space, okay?"

He shook his head. "You give women the vote, and next thing you know they're talking about 'needing space.'" He froze as though something had just occurred to him. His face twisted into a Greek theatre mask of pain. "Oh, God, are you leaving me for that russet-skinned _mongrel_?"

"What? Do you mean Jacob? No!"

"Oh, you are, aren't you?" He stomped his foot. "Him and his dusky, perky nipples and his taut, rippling abs! But guess what, Bella? Perky nipples can't make you happy like I can!"

I exploded at him. " I just want one flippin' taco night without you hiding in the bushes peeking through the kitchen window!" I picked up my bag and stomped to the door. I paused. "And you're kind of racist, Edward!"

That night I was breezing through my Algebra homework, thinking about my relationship with Edward. It had been wonderful, at first—more than wonderful, it was magical. But something had changed. I used to read Romeo and Juliet and sigh at how much it reminded me of us. Now, I could only cringe at a play about a couple of stupid kids who fall in love without even knowing each other, and who only talk about how in love they are.

I was brought out of my reverie by a tap on my window. I rolled my eyes and ignored it. The tap came again, louder, and then again. Just as I was about to put my algebra book aside to go open it, it shattered.

"Oops," Edward muttered from where he was clinging to the drainpipe.

"Bella?" Charlie yelled up the stairs.

I scrambled to open my bedroom door, stuck my head out and screamed back, "I'm okay! I just accidentally threw my algebra book through the window!"

"While that sounds implausible, I believe you because I know how clumsy you are, sweetheart!"

"Thanks, Dad!" I shut the door behind me and locked it.

Edward was climbing through the window, gingerly pulling his beige cashmere sweater away from where it was snagging at multiple places on the glass shards still remaining in the window frame.

"What the heck, Edward?" I hissed at him. "Doesn't 'I need space' mean _anything _to you?"

"I tried, Bella, I swear," he said. "I even covered my eyes when I was sitting in the maple tree out front so I wouldn't see you and Charlie having taco night. I know how important it is to you, and I treasure and respect that."

"Really? You respect me enough to break into my room in the middle of the night?"

He held up a finger. "To be fair, you've never objected before."

I slapped his finger out of my face. "Well, I object now. Go home, Edward."

And that was it. He actually started crying. "Oh, God, oh, God, this is it, isn't it? I'm destined to spend the remainder of my endless days on this earth alone? Not even your fragrant hamburger-like smell to keep me company?"

"My hamburger—" I shook my head. "I am _not_ breaking up with you, Edward! Though I must say you're not really validating my decision right now!"

He just sniveled into his sleeve. He pulled away to look at me, spotted a small rip in the sleeve from the broken glass, and broke into a full-out wail.

"Bella?" Charlie called again.

I poked my head out the door. "Female problems!" I bellowed.

"Sorry I asked!" Charlie yelled back. A second later, I could hear the sound of the Mariners game on the TV downstairs increasing in volume sevenfold.

When I turned back to Edward, he was writhing on my bed, wrapping the purple comforter around himself like a shroud as he sniveled and groaned like he was passing a kidney stone. As much as I wanted to hit him in the groin at that moment, I also couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. I dove into my closet and dug around for a while.

"Okay, fine. Here!" I held out a flannel shirt I'd fished from my laundry hamper. "I cleaned out the attic in that, so it's gotta be hamburgerrific!"

Edward jumped out of my bed and was at my side in a second, yanking the shirt out of my hand and shoving it into his face. He inhaled deeply, eyelids fluttering closed.

"Yeah…" I said gently, so as not to spook him. I took his hand and led him back to the window. "Are you going to be okay?" I asked, though frankly I didn't give a darn.

Eyes still closed, Edward nodded. "I'm good," he said, voice muffled through the flannel. Pausing to tie the sleeves around his face so he could have both hands free, he catapulted out the window and ran off into the night. I heard his voice shrinking as he ran full-tilt back into the forest. "I love you more than fire loves oxygen!"

Jacob and his big loud motorcycle roared up our driveway the next day as Charlie and I sat in the kitchen, him downing Rainiers like it was going out of style and me drinking water silently.

I jumped out of my chair as soon as I heard the engine cut out. I hadn't been certain he would come at all, since he hadn't responded to my text, but now that he was it was as though a chiseled, effeminate weight had been lifted off my chest.

Charlie glanced out the window and his moustache curved into a smile.

"Oh-_ho_," he said, knowingly. He waggled his eyebrows at me.

"_Edward's _my boyfriend, dad," I said in the same tone I might tell him we were out of toilet paper. "I'm gonna go say hi."

"Of course," Charlie said smugly as he sucked the last droplets of beer out of his grody lip hair. "I know how you kids say 'hi' these days."

I ignored him and bounded out the door. "Jacob! Thank gosh you're here."

Jacob, shirtless as ever, slid off the motorcycle and pulled himself to his full gigantor height. "No problem, Bells. What are…_just friends_ for?" He practically spat the words out. "What did you need to talk about?"

" I need you to murder Edward for me. Also, why are you holding your arms away from your body like that?"

He flexed his bare pecs. "Oh, it's just my ripped lats, they're so huge I can't even put my arms—wait, _murder Edward_?" His arms dropped as though he'd been punctured. "You can't be serious!"

"I thought you hated him! You're always 'bloodsucker this,' 'leech that.' I mean, it wouldn't even really be murder, would it? He's already dead! It'd be more like…" I cast around for something more euphemistic. "…crime scene cleanup!"

Jacob was scrutinizing every inch of my face. "He's finally driven you insane."

I heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Gosh, yes! Finally, someone else gets it!"

A slow grin was spreading over Jacob's face. "So what was it? His full, pouty lips? His flawless skin? His perfect hair? The way his teeth shine so bright you wanna smash them in just so you can know what it's like to destroy something beautiful?"

"No! Wait, what? What do you—never mind. No! He's an insane stalker, and I'm sick of it! I tried being nice, I tried being mean! I can't shake him! He's like a tick clinging to that spot on my back I can't reach, just sucking the life out of me!" I could practically see Jacob bristle at that, and added hastily, "Figuratively speaking! The guy won't even make out with me, for crying out loud, you think he'd actually have the _cojones_ to suck my blood?"

Jacob crossed his enormous arms over his chest, veins bulging alarmingly as he flexed his biceps. "All right. I'll do it."

"Yes!" I pumped my fist in the air. "Sanity, one, clingy milquetoasts zero!"

"On one condition."

I stopped in the middle of my touchdown victory dance and narrowed my eyes at him. "What condition?"

"You have to go to the prom with me."

"That's it? I thought you were gonna say I had to let you feel me up in the back of a Camaro or something. Deal!"

"That was an option? Wait, I changed my mind—"

"Too late, one prom in exchange for one murder!" I resumed my end-zone Charleston. "Could this day get any better?"

Jacob slumped. You could practically see his ears drooping. "Dammit." 

"Are you sure this is the most romantic alley in Port Angeles, Bella?" Edward frowned as he flipped through the twelve-page pamphlet we'd gotten at the town's tourist information center earlier that day. Comic Sans letters declared: _Port Angeles—City on the Move!_

"Yeah, it's a Frommer's Must-See," I said, trying not to look too shifty as I searched behind the dumpster on the off chance Jacob might be crouching there, crowbar in hand.

Edward paused, and a knowing look came to his golden eyes. "I know what you're up to, Bella."

I froze. "Wh—what do you mean, Edward?"

He gave me a crooked half-smile. "I may not be able to read your mind, but your face is an open book." His cold fingers grasped my chin gently. "I'm not stupid, you know."

"Edward, you've got it all wrong," I started.

He broke into a face-splitting grin. "It's the anniversary of the second time I saved your life! I was starting to think you'd totally forgotten!" He pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, sighing. "You are just the most precious, breakable creature. Thoughtful, too."

"Heh," I said, muffled by his stony chest. Hugging Edward was like hugging a concrete traffic barrier that smelled like an Abercrombie and Fitch store. "That's me. Thoughtful." _Where are you, Jacob? _was all I could think.

"But as much as I love alleys that are the scene of crimes at a rate disproportionately high for a town of 18,000 people, we should probably get something to eat. After all, I'm afraid your frail human digestive system can't go much longer without—" He stopped, his head snapping around to stare into the darkness at the end of the alley. His nostrils flared, and he growled, "Filthy cur."

Jacob stepped out of the darkness, wearing nothing but a pair of cutoffs so short I could see the pockets hanging out of the legs. And an aluminum foil hat, which he tapped. "Didn't even hear me coming, did you, leech?"

"I don't need to hear you," Edward said disdainfully. I took the opportunity to extricate myself from his grasp unnoticed. "I could smell you and your taut muscles a mile away."

Jacob's eyebrows drew together into an intense frown. "Ditto," he snarled.

They ran toward each other at full tilt.

"Edward, no, please, don't," I said, checking my cuticles and sneaking a peek at my wristwatch.

They crashed together with a sound like mighty Thor hammering on the heavens. Then there was a lot of slapping and hair-pulling.

"Ow! Wait!"

"Shut up! I'm going to kill you!"

"No, no, time out!"

"There's no time out in fighting to the death!"

"My hair's caught in your stupid watch! Since when do you wear a watch? Or anything, for that matter?"

"I had to be on time!"

"I thought you people told time with eagle feathers or something!"

"That is _so _racist!"

"_You're _racist!"

"No! I'm not, that's the whole point!"

"_You _shut up!"

"What-can we just get back to killing you, please?"

"Over my dead body!"

It went on like that for another half hour or so. Eventually, I took a seat on an overturned milk crate to wait for it to be over. At some point, a gang of scruffy ruffians wandered into the alley. I held up a hand and shook my head. "Sorry, guys, venue's booked. Try the spooky crime-ridden alley by the movie theater." They kicked their shoes against the dirt and shuffled away, hands shoved in pockets.

Finally, when the fight had devolved into Jacob—I guess not realizing that the undead don't actually have to breathe—trying to choke Edward out with a full nelson as they scrabbled around on the ground, I stood and yelled, "Okay, just stop! This is getting stupid!"

They paused from where they were intertwined around each other.

"Bella," Edward ground out. "Don't worry, my sweet—I won't let him—harm you—"

"No!" Jacob yelled, red-faced. His tinfoil hat had fallen off in the skirmish. "I won't let _him_ harm you!"

"Nobody's getting harmed!" I said. "Just—" I heaved a sigh. "Edward, I hired Jacob to kill you. I would have just broken up with you, but I just _knew_ you would start crying, and—ugh, there you go again."

The tears were streaming from Edward's huge dark eyes now, down under his chin, and onto Jacob's bulging forearms.

"Stop it," Jacob said, looking mildly disconcerted.

"Bella-huh-uh…" Edward sobbed. "You're the only light in my eternal darkness bluh huh huh huh…"

"See, that?" I said. "That is exactly why I had to do it. This whole thing," I gestured at all of us, spending our Saturday night in a damp alley. "This is not normal. You and I? Not normal. I should be hooking up with some random idiot at a lame house party, drunk on stolen beers and the lightheartedness of youth. Or, more up my alley, alone in my room, writing erotic fanfiction while eating half a pint of Haagen Dazs. Lame? Yes. Cliché? Of course! But I have had it up to _here_ with vampires and werewolves and undying love and purity!" I ripped the charm bracelet off my wrist and threw it on the ground in front of them. The giant diamond hanging off it pulled it straight to the asphalt with a _clunk_.

They both stared at it in disbelief for a moment.

Jacob looked up at me. "Does this mean…"

"No!" I shouted at him. "Your crappy little wolf is on there, too, buddy! And I'm not going to prom with you, either! You're a flipping werewolf, and it didn't even occur to you to try to wolf out to kill him? It would have been over in, like, a second! The guy you hate more than anything, and you can't even manage to murder him! I'm sick of both of you!" I stepped on Jacob's aluminum foil hat, feeling the satisfying crunch under my sneaker. "Smell ya later, losers!"

And with that, I went home to watch _Dumb and Dumber _with Charlie and eat an entire bag of Funyuns.

Me and the leech sat in the alley late into the night.

"I can't believe it," he kept saying. "I thought we would be together forever."

As annoying as he usually was, I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. Sure, he was a huge douchebag, but he was a huge douchebag who hadn't gotten laid in 108 years.

His glare was on me like white on rice. "I was _waiting _for The One! I couldn't just give my body to the first suffragette that came along! Not that a bunch of _animals_ would know anything about that."

Crap. I forgot about the whole mind-reading thing. I started looking around for my tinfoil hat.

There was a blur of color and a rush of wind, and Edward was standing ten feet away, a crumpled ball of sheet metal in his hand. "Looking for something?"

This was more like it. The bloodsucker I loved to hate. Not some crying, broken, vulnerable guy who I just wanted to take in my arms and…

Edward had the strangest look on his face. "And what?" he asked, sounding a little breathless.

"And…you're dumb!" I said. He grinned, shiny teeth gleaming in the moonlight. _Hot_, I thought. Whoops. There was that face again.

"I do believe," Edward started slowly, "you're having inappropriate thoughts about me." He was too close, now, and suddenly the dead person smell coming off of him smelled more like orange blossom honey.

"No, I'm—" I stopped and scowled at him. "Well, I wasn't before!"

"Tell me," he said, stepping closer. "Which way to the gun show?"

Damn. He was really good at this mind-reading stuff. Half a second to read my deepest darkest fantasy. I sighed. What could it hurt?

I lifted both my hands and pointed down the alley, flexing my arms as hard as I could. "The guns? They're that-a-way. Or…" I turned my fingers inward, pointing at my own biceps. "…maybe they're right here!"

He was on me like a tick on a bloodhound. We made out like the desperate horny teenagers I was and Edward looked like (even though he was actually the world's creepiest old man). If Bella could have seen us, she probably would have been even more pissed off. But the weird thing was, I didn't really mind.

With an enemy like this, who needed friends like Bella?


End file.
